


Three Way - One Year Later

by FunFics



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, Bleak, Felt like writing sad shit, Gen, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunFics/pseuds/FunFics
Summary: The Saints secured their greatest victory. STAG were nullified, Steelport was now declared it's own nation, and the Saints status as pop culture icons remained. But, with the loss of yet another close friend, The Boss' confidence is shattered.
Kudos: 1





	Three Way - One Year Later

**Author's Note:**

> This story stars one of my two Bosses - Ruby!
> 
> https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Em7HKbiWMAA1uay?format=jpg&name=large
> 
> https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Em7HORwXIAIUv5o?format=jpg&name=large
> 
> Expect more stories with her in the future.
> 
> As always, comments/criticisms/feedback are greatly appreciated! Stay safe, everyone, and thanks for reading.

The rain lashed down onto the murky streets of Steelport, unlucky pedestrians left to flee to shelter with drenched newspapers acting as their only semblance of cover. A cold night, though the city-turned-nation's leaders sat comfortably within their HQ, the luxurious condo they procured from the Morningstar upon their arrival to the city. The building illuminated quite beautifully in contrast to its grimy, gritty surroundings, purple spotlights swaying through the otherwise deep blue skies. Within the base of operations, mayor and Saints lieutenant Pierce Washington reunited with the leader of the infamous gang-turned-megastars, The Boss. Pierce had barely any free time over the past year - as it turned out, running a country was hard work. Coupled with Third Street odd jobs here and Planet Saints appearances there, the former singer was very much stretched thin. However, it was a special day. A day which meant as much to him as it did the Boss herself; Shaundi's birthday. Both Saints made sure to free their schedules for the milestone, promising to get together and celebrate her memory.

Night had fallen, and they had gone through a few beers, empty bottles littering the living room. Left leg resting casually over her right thigh, The Boss dangled her booted foot off the floor, lightly bouncing it in a slow rhythm. She had drank a fair bit more than her now second-in-command, Washington showing some rare responsibility as he tried to maintain some relative level of sobriety. Both took up a whole couch individually as they reminisced on their late friend.

Swigging some liquor, The Boss smacked her glossy black lips, placing the beverage on the glass table before her, briefly wrestling her leather coat off to relax.

"You remember when you first met her?"

"Do I remember!?" Pierce reiterated with a scoff. "Shit, girl drove me crazy." he continued with a warm smile. "Taking credit for my plans against the Ronin and shit - man, I thought she had it out for me."

"Oh stop..." the Boss chuckled, almost spilling her drink.

"I swear! She knew how to get under my skin-"

"And into a guy's pants."

"But... I dunno - after awhile, she just... grew on me." 

"She does that. Hell, at first, I wasn't sure she'd cut it. I didn't think some tiny stoner chick would last, but... Well, she did alright." 

"Became a house-hold name in the process. How many gangbangers get their own dating show? I mean, imagine one of us with that; only she could handle it. Not me, not you... Sure as hell not Gat." 

"Oh my GOD, could you imagine him on a dating show? This poor broad expecting some fancy restaurant, a candlelit dinner -and BAM - Freckle Bitch's!"" they cry the name of the old fast food chain unison, a favorite of Johnny's - sharing a hearty chuckle, both taking another swig of their liquors. The fun takes a turn however, a brief silence being broken by the Boss.

"Pierce hon, I hope you know, I really appreciate you." she confessed, her smile wavering.

"Uhh, thanks, Boss. And I do you... What're you after?" 

"What, I can't just give a friend a compliment?" 

"Well, with how often you and the boys gimmie shit, I'm almost a little skeptical."

"Damn it Pierce, I - I don't want anything, okay? I'm sorry if we we're hard on you. It comes from a place of love, alright? You're one of my closest friends. You're my right-hand man for a reason."

"Boss, that means a lot - but what's up? Ain't like you to get all sentimental, y'know? Forreal, what's on your mind?"

The Boss was a woman of incredible feats. Single-handedly taking down aircraft, Surviving a boat explosion from within, dismantling more rival gangs than she could count - and yet, all of that was easier for her than making eye contact at that moment. A shaky sigh forced its way from her mouth as she sat upright, chest rising and falling with her brow furrowed.

"I've made a lot of sacrifices to get where I am, to get the Saints where we are today. And I'm not stupid, I knew there'd be casualties along the way. Lin, Carlos, even Johnny... But Shaundi, I... I can't stop thinking. I can't get this voice out've my head..." she stammered, swallowing hard. "Every hour, every damn hour of the day, It keeps asking me - did she have to die?"

"...Boss..."

"Did any of them have to? Could I have done something differently?"

"Boss, you can't think like-" but she continued, her voice only growing louder as she stood up, pacing back and fourth.

"Why didn't I? I'm the 'boss' right, I'm in charge? So this is all my responsibility!"

"You're putting too much pressure on yourself, man, shit, just try rela-"

"I've done all this crazy shit over the years and put EVERYONE that stood in our way ten fuckin' feet under; cartels, drug dealers, a cult, Yakuza, Ultor, Luchadores, a FUCKING MILITIA - SO WHY CAN'T I SAVE ANYONE?" She howled with an agonizing frustration, turning to the closest window and booting it with all her might, shards of glass littering the floor as rainfall began to pelt at her feet. Pierce was frozen - in all his years of knowing her, he'd never seen the Boss so utterly frazzled, not to this extent. She had always maintained a snarky, quip-y attitude even in the worst of times, but it dawned on him - it was a coping mechanism. His heart ached, speechless. She stifled a whimper of fragility, smudging her eyeliner as she padded her eyes instinctively. "W-Why...? Why does this keep happening?"

"Boss... You can't blame every little thing on yourself." insists her old friend, gingerly approaching the distraught boss. "Man, you did that, you'd go fuckin' crazy."

"I just... What if you're next? I can't, Pierce. I can't lose anyone else..."

"I know. I know." Pierce hushes. "Listen, Boss - we all knew what we were gettin' into when we joined the Saints. I mean, okay, maybe I didn't expect us becoming mega-celebs, but you get what I'm saying. We knew the risks, and we joined regardless - it's dangerous, being a Saint. That doesn't stop any of us. You can't pin that all on you, man." he rests a hand on her shoulder, firm, but affectionate. She sniffles, a deep sigh escaping her. 

"I know... I know... I'm sorry, I just... I think I just need a break."

"I think we all could... So why don't we take one? Me, you, Oleg, Kinzie, the boys, put our cash t'good use and go to some fancy island resort, straight-up movie shit. Get massages, play some volleyball on the beach... Maybe see if we can get a private strip club?" he adds with a smirk, half-joking at best. 

"Ah, because I think island resort, I think G-strings and lap-dances." she scoffed with a hint of a grin upon her face, Pierce always able to cheer her up to some degree. 

"But wouldn't it be better with 'em?" 

"And what about Steelport? You think we can just take off for a few weeks with nobody trying to swoop in?" 

"You think any of them dumb motherfuckers would actually survive?" 

"Well... Okay, fair point."

"Soooo... We doin' this?" he nudged at her shoulder playfully, doing a pretty shitty job of hiding his excitement.

"... Alright, fuck it -let's do it." she submitted, rewarding her lieutenant with a lethargic high-five, the lack of enthusiasm going unnoticed.

"OH YEAH, HAHAH! WOO!" he hollered with triumph. "Girl, it's gonna be a fuckin' RIOT!"

"I sure hope so... I'm gonna leave the planning to you - that cool?"

"Sounds like a plan man!" he cheered with approval, pumping his fists. "Shit, It's getting late; I'mma take off for the office, got some borin' paperwork stuff I need to burn through, but I'll get right on finding us a hotel and jazz right after - this is so overdue! Should I let the others know?"

"Up to you, 'Mister Washington'." The Boss snickered, turning as she began to climb the steps to her bedroom.

"Hey, you want Steelport to go to shit, I'll stay right here!" he jested with a quick-witted retort.

"Kidding! Seriously, your call. Catch you soon, Pierce." she gave casual two-finger salute from her doorframe before vanishing into her quarters, leaving the door open behind her as her comrade's goodbye grew inaudible.

She sat on her mattress, slouched and silent as her mind rather immediately began recollecting upon her earlier outburst. More than guilt, even intensely so, she was tired - a tiredness that could not simply be slept off. Her fingers draped atop her knees fiddling aimlessly, her gaze inadvertently found it's way to the mirror atop her wardrobe opposite her. Her eyes watered and stung as she glared at the reflection across the room. Shame. Disgust. Hatred - any and all self-love she had was submerged under layers of culpability. After all her countless deeds over the years, the lives she'd taken and ended without a second thought; it was only when her actions resulted in the death of somebody she cared about that it really struck her.

She forced herself to her feet, meagerly approaching her drawers with purpose - her timid hand brushed past the dozens of makeup products, instead, retrieving a Glock. Tubes of various shades of lipstick were knocked down as she dragged the hefty handgun over the tabletop, examining it up-close. Her eyes forced contact with herself a second time ,and maintaining it was a pain she couldn't quite take, not with the firearm in her grasp. Faulty, the weapon's cartridge slid out and fell to the carpeted floor.

"Fuckin' thing.." she cursed, kneeling to retrieve the contraption; but upon examining underneath the dresser, she found something she'd completely forgotten about... A black box, the lid adorned with a bright red, velvet bow. She slid the small container out from the shadows, resting against her knees as she gingerly lifted the top off to peek at the content; her sight was blessed with a custom shotgun. The weapon was coated in Saints' colors, purples and solid gold encasing the bedazzled gift; it was a work of art in every sense of the word. But buried beneath it was a simple, small piece of paper - a note. Below the small message was what seemed to be the imprint of someone's lips, the pink mark remaining completely in-tact and visible.

"Happy 26th, Roobs!" it read, The Boss' hands trembling. "Please, try make it at least another 26, yeah? Seeya tonight ;) - Shaundi"

"Hey Boss, sorry, forgot my phone. Hey, you should get that window fixed soon before-" his words drifted off as she looked up at him, unable to hold back the waterworks; she rose, rushing towards her long-time friend and practically fell into his arms, her tears staining his shoulder. He said nothing, and nor did she - he stood still, his embrace one-sided as The Boss sobbed into the night.


End file.
